


From Fire To Fire

by miniaturesketches



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bloodshed, Brainwashing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grant Ward Redemption, Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson Friendship, Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson Friendship, Minor Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Night Terrors, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Season 2 Compliant, Parent Phil Coulson, Protective Grant Ward, Protective Phil Coulson, Protective Skye | Daisy Johnson, Protective Team, Self-Harm, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Skye | Daisy Johnson Needs a Hug, Skye | Daisy Johnson-centric, Team as Family, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniaturesketches/pseuds/miniaturesketches
Summary: After being taken captive and tortured, Skye is left shattered and Ward is at his wits' end keeping  her afloat. The Obelisk, an object of unknown origin capable of world destruction, is in Cybertek's hands - but to whom does it belong beyond that? A tale of trust and hope, of keeping faith and holding on to love. Season 1-2 Ward redemption arc.TW: Torture, bloodshed, self-harm, night terrors, PTSD, brainwashing.
Relationships: Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Leo Fitz & Melinda May & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson & Original Character(s), Skye | Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward
Comments: 28
Kudos: 60





	1. The Battle of Cybertek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission into a Cybertek facility to retrieve the Obelisk blueprints goes wrong.

The mission was supposed to be simple. Get Fitz safely inside the Cybertek facility stronghold at Palo Alto, wait for him to retrieve the blueprints of the 0-8-4 and extraction would bust them out of there. No combat needed unless shit hit the fan. One left turn down the corridor later and the shit was flying.

An armour-plated automaton twice the height of a human clunked forward, the metal hissing with heat. The message was clear: get out or get through me.

“What. In the hell–“

“Fitz, info on how to defeat this thing. Right about-“ Ward took a step backward, gun loaded. “Now would be good. May, plan?”

Fitz tapped his tablet, “Same make as Deathlok, judging from the metalwork. It’s probably the, uh, defensive security system here. Hits are deadly, so avoid them.”

“You, me, distract this. Skye go with Fitz. Meet us at the extraction point.” May’s eyes trained steadily on the advancing automaton. “Go.”

Ward and May glanced at each other and charged the massive robot, firing wildly. Skye grabbed Fitz and they slipped behind it and down the corridor. They were silent for a moment as they moved on.

“They’ll be okay. You know what they’re capable of. Ward’s the world’s toughest SO,” Skye offered.

She was brushed off with an “Obviously. Floor plan says right turn here, red door. Ready?” They pushed the door open and peeped in.

“What, is Cybertek mass-manufacturing robots in China now?”

Inside, Automaton One’s slightly smaller twin was swinging its arms back and forth boredly, like the Iron Golems Skye liked to leash around her Minecraft village. Occasionally she’d hack them into hitting themselves over the head for fun, but that was _so_ not going to happen here. Unless...

“Data room’s inside. I’ll lure it out, you get the prints.”

“Are you mad? You’ve only completed sixteen months combat training no weapons besides two ICERS it’ll kill you so fast that it has time to murder me before I can rewire the damn system and get the blueprints out of here.” Fitz hissed back in a single breath.

“Actually, sixteen-and-a-half months. Also I stole your explosives from the lab so...not just two ICERS. Nice security upgrades, by the way. I get to _scan my thumbprint_ before it detonates? Sweet.” Without missing a beat, Skye flung the red door open and yelled, “Surprise, motherfucker!”

Automaton Two instantly charged. Fitz dodged inside. Skye sprinted backwards. She could tell A-Two was riled from the way the cracks between his metal plates glowed red.

Her battle senses kicked in. _Avoid hits. Weak fighting stance on left. Escape routes down corridor back to Automaton One, or else data room endangering Fitz’s mission._

She began firing, but as expected, the ICER’s dendrotoxin had no way of affecting the metal plates. A-Two took a swing at her; she ducked and rolled under its legs. It attempted to stomp on her but she managed, by the skin of her teeth, to roll over and dodge.

_Electronic systems in the head. Body temperature would melt it otherwise. Four metres high._

She braced herself, dashed forward and leapt halfway up on its body. Her hands seared on the steaming metal and she screamed. The automaton shook her off and bashed her to the ground. There was a startling instant when she could see only white flashes and taste warm blood in her mouth. A brush of moving air to her right told her to move and she managed to veer out of the path of the automaton’s crashing foot and retreat further back into the corridor blindly, firing desperately all the while.

The automaton followed.

_Electronic systems in the head. Electronics in the head._

Skye shakily removed a dendrotoxin round from the gun, pierced her hands with the sharp tip of the cartridge and rubbed a bit of the numbing toxin in. She felt the pain from the burns ebb. Then she leapt on the automaton again and began scaling up, using the cracks of the metal plates as handholds.

She was just snapping her legs around the robotic head when she heard a shout. A bloodied Ward and May staggered forward at the end of the corridor. The distraction was enough for the automaton to hit her, hard, dislodging her from her perch. A sickening crack. Skye felt the wind knocked out of her in a way she never had before. She could not breathe. She could not move. She could not see.

“SKYE!” She could distantly hear Ward cry out, far down the long corridor. “SKYE!”

The heavy tread of the automaton pounded in her head. It was triumphant, almost. She tried to get up but found her body as unmoveable as a sack of wet cement. Her fingers found the hand grenade and her thumb slipped into the groove. With the last of her strength, she nudged the grenade in the direction of A-Two’s footsteps. Heaved herself over, painfully. Shielded her face with her arms. Around her, bits of floor and metal parts exploded like rain.

**OOO**

“Pulse. Do you have a pulse? Do you have a pulse?!”

“ I-can’t find a...wait-yes. Yes!”

“Take inventory of her injuries. Extraction in four minutes. Calling in a med team.”

Skye was suddenly conscious of hands cradling her head, of a gaggle of panicked voices above her. She tried to open her eyes and the pain spliced through her skull immediately. “Fitz...” her mouth felt like sandpaper, ”Is he safe? Prints?”

She could feel the dizziness swarming her again but held on. There was a gentle, firm touch on her arm and May answered, “All safe. Blueprints with us.” Skye drifted off once more.


	2. Between The Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Battle of Cybertek. A new mission crops up, again related to the Cybertek 0-8-4: The Obelisk. Plenty of Skye and Ward scenes as her SO. 
> 
> **Forgot to mention it in this chapter, but this is set in the Bus.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Carolyn here! Thank you for the few kudos I got - I wasn't expecting them whatsoever on my first day in AO3. I am also on ff.net with this story under the same user, but I update here more because A03 has an easier interface to use. I realise my dialogue is a bit hard to follow sometimes if you don't watch Agents of SHIELD. Feel free to leave any questions in the comments!

“What was she thinking? She wasn’t prepared to go and fight a damn Deathlok automaton. She had sixteen months of-“

“You think I didn't bloody tell her that, Ward? She said sixteen-and-a-half-”

“May and I barely managed to take down one. She could have been killed!” Ward opened and closed his fists on the table several times and exhaled slowly, watching the security camera feed of the medic team beginning surgery.

May entered the briefing room. He looked up.

“Concussion, shrapnel in the shoulder and back, broken bones from the neck down. Probably some mild traumatic brain injury. Medics give her four months’ recovery.” May’s lips twitched. “She’ll live.”

**OOO**

Five days later, Skye woke to Simmons sticking a needle into her wrist.

“Ow,” she said groggily.

Jemma smiled down at her. “Oh, you’re awake at last. I’m just putting you on a hydromorphone drip now, it should ease the pain a bit. You’ve been under for just about four days.”

“Probably would’ve been under a lot longer and a couple feet deeper if ex-fil had delayed,” Ward’s head popped into the medical pod.

“God, lay it on me later, Ward. I’m too sick to hear this right now. Simmons, back me up.”

“Technically I did just pump you full of narcotics, so the pain should have reduced. And if you can verbalise a statement that long without passing out, my professional opinion is that Agent Ward is perfectly within his rights as your SO to subject you to a lecture,” Jemma said sternly, raising her eyebrows and exiting the pod.

Skye groaned and slumped back across her pillows. “What did you want me to do? Mission was at risk. Hell, Fitz was at risk. I knew what I signed up for, Ward.”

Ward rubbed his eyes wearily and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I need a drink” under his breath. “S.H.I.E.L.D Handbook Chapter 8.4. What does it say?”

“Don’t Chapter 8.4 me!”

“Agents under training with a Supervising Officer must obtain permission before engaging in physical combat in the field. I could get you court-martialed if I wanted.”

“Is that a threat? Seriously? Oh, so, next time I’ll just sit tight and hope that _Agent Grant Ward_ and _Agent Melinda May_ are alive enough to deal with another giant robot. Being court-martialed scares me so much.”

 _“_ I said if I wanted. I don’t. Doesn’t change the fact that you could easily have died, Skye! I don’t need you combat-fit, I need you alive.” For the first time, the sarcastic edge in his voice was gone, replaced with an undercurrent of anger. She looked at him and saw the hard clench of his jaw and the irritated purse of his lips. She looked closer and saw the red veins in his eyes and the tiredness in his body language.

“I know. I’m sorry.” The anger in his eyes lessened enough for her to continue. “Jemma says I can ease back into light training in a week or so...You taking me?”

“Don’t lie. Two weeks. Physical rehab, not training.”

“Mmm...better than I expected.”

His lips twitched in spite of himself and he shook his head resignedly. “Get some rest,” he said, leaning over to adjust her pillows. “If I’m off the clock tomorrow, I’ll bring a Battleship board over."

**OOO**

“There’s this place in Los Angeles I like. Little hill overlooking the city-“

“You know changing the topic doesn’t work on me. Ten push-ups. Or thirty half-push-ups. Your choice.”

Skye groaned and got on the floor, sweat beading her chest. “- and there are African violets at the right time of the year. Used to drive my van up there when the parking spaces were full.”

“Six more push-ups. Funny, I didn’t take you for the kind who liked flowers.”

Skye finished, panting. “And I didn’t take you for the kind who liked board games. Battleship, I can understand. Monopoly? Really?”

Ward shrugged. “Thing about board games is you get to set your goals. Plan your strategy. It’s fun.”

“Monopoly is literally tossing dice. What kind of strategy is that? Chance? Fitzsimmons would call it probability, but you know what I call it? Bullshit.”

He grinned. “Life is chance sometimes. Only difference with board games is we can afford to lose.” The grin slipped off and the humourless Agent expression resettled over his features. “Treadmill. Twenty minutes.”

Skye knew that was all she was going to get out of him for the rest of the training session. He opened up more now than he used to though. There were times, she thought, he tried to show her a little behind the mask carefully calculated to be expressionless and unreadable. The comment on board games was one of them. She felt his gaze on her and looked cautiously over at him from the treadmill.

Ward promptly crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Ten minutes more. You can have half an hour for lunch after. Coulson’s holding a briefing in the afternoon.”

“That’s - it for - training?” she panted. “Haven’t – even done – boxing today.”

“Still another month before your injuries heal. We’ve been pushing you pretty hard lately. Recovery training today.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Grab lunch with me?”

He stiffened with surprise. Typically, he ate with May in the mess room and she, Fitz and Simmons took the common quarters. May was on pilot duty that afternoon and it was too early for FitzSimmons to be out of the lab. He studied her for a moment with a strange expression. Some queer mixture between confusion, indecisiveness, perhaps - hope. 

“Yeah, okay. Common quarters?”

**OOO**

“Hi.”

“Hi, what?”

“Nothing. This - silence is awkward. You’re just sitting there and eating. No wonder you and May get along.”

Ward looked up, confused. “So it’s lunch. I sit here and eat.” To prove his point, he shovelled a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Skye burst into laughter. “Okay, T-1000. Sit there and eat.” She picked up her fork and took another bite. He grimaced at the old nickname. The silence softened.

She caught him looking at her again as they were eating. Eventually, he said, “Your hair is in your pasta.”

“What? Where?”

He reached across the table and lightly tucked a long strand behind her ear. “Oh. Thanks,” Skye said and proceeded to polish off the rest of her meal. He nodded, flushed up to his ears and quickly got up to take his plate to the sink. The tap turned on and he scrubbed his plate scrupulously. Finally, the water turned off.

He muttered quietly, “Want to do this again sometime? Lunch, I mean.”

Skye grinned behind him.

**OOO**

The team gathered around the briefing room holotable. Fitz flicked a button and the hologram of the Cybertek 0-8-4 appeared. “So,” he began, “Agent Coulson called the briefing today because I found, uh, cryptographic algorithms embedded in the Cybertek blueprints a couple weeks ago. Just based off the engineering drawings, the 0-8-4 uses a-a kind of virus at molecular level that activates the proto-oncogenes using translocations, which-“

“Fitz. English.” Coulson held up his hands.

“What Fitz is saying is that the 0-8-4 turns people to a sort of stone upon contact with bare skin,” Jemma smiled wanly. “But that’s just what the blueprint shows. We figured that out in half a minute. The _interesting_ thing we discovered two weeks ago is the encrypted codes running in the designs.”

Fitz enlarged the hologram and zoomed in. “Yeah, uh, Skye, if you could decrypt-” Line after line of code emerged in blue light. “This.”

Skye scowled and leaned in closer. “Seriously? One time pad _and_ biometric systems? I hate them.” She flipped open her computer. Coulson bent over to look. She tapped in the codes, her fingers flying over the keyboard. May and Ward came round the holotable to watch her work.

May tilted her chin, “How long is this going to take-“

“Done.” Words appeared on her screen: **_The Obelisk files. 12/5/1500. Cybertek Austria Hangar SFC-S. Digital Command Centre._**

Ward frowned, “It’s a meeting place. Is the 0-8-4 the Obelisk?”

“May, set a course for Austria.” Coulson’s mouth was set in a hard line. “Ward, gear up. Skye, I need you in case the files have to be decrypted before transfer to drive. Fitz-Simmons will run tactical backend from the Bus. We have ten hours to equip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary of terms:  
> a) Hydromorphone: a pain medication  
> b) S.H.I.E.L.D Handbook: a guide of regulations and SHIELD history given to SHIELD agents-in-training  
> c) Battleship: a popular board game  
> d) T-1000: antagonist in Terminator. It's a nickname Skye gives Ward in Season One for being robot-like and emotionless  
> e) Holotable: a device shaped as a table that projects holograms and holographic models for analysis  
> f) One time pad/biometric systems: methods of code encryption  
> g) Tactical backend: Keep an eye and provide additional backup/support from a distance


	3. Into The Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Obelisk mission is a trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, hope you like this chapter! Whew! Three chapters in two days and I wrote them on the go. I know exactly where this story is going, but I'm a little tired at the moment and might take a tiny bit longer for future updates. I aim to complete this fic by mid to late January and it's a long one! Love, Carolyn.

“Fitz? Simmons? Are you seeing this?” Coulson cautiously angled the camera in his collar to face the passageway.

“Something’s wrong with the floor plans that logistics retrieved,” Ward spoke urgently and quietly into the comms. “The right turn we’re supposed to make to Digital Command is missing. It’s just wall.”

Skye gripped her ICER. “Yeah, it’s weird. Floor plans show a right and left turn. Left turn is there, right seems to have never existed. It isn’t even blocked up. It’s just – gone?”

The intercom crackled. “We’re running a database check to see if we can trace any new floor plans.” A pause. “We can’t find any. Sir, do you want to abort the mission or-“

Coulson’s expression hardened. He turned to face his other two agents. “Your call. Abort or proceed?”

“We flew ten hours to get here. If this Obelisk thing does what Fitz think it does, _lives_ are at risk! We can’t abort this.” Skye wrung her hands.

Ward shrugged, “Well, it’s the only lead we have on the 0-8-4. I’m with Skye.” Pulling the safety release on his shotgun, he reloaded and glanced at Coulson.

They rounded the left turn silently, on the alert. Nothing was amiss, just a stretch of long, blank corridor. Then, in an instant, the white overhead lights flickered and their comms sparked out. Something hard and cold was forced against the back of their necks.

A click. The ceiling lights went back on.

Skye froze. They were surrounded by soldiers in black tactical gear, rifles aimed straight at their chests and guns pressed to their backs. A man with a Cybertek tag on his lapel stepped out from among the soldiers. A communication device on his ear activated with a tap. “We have the hacker in our custody.”

He turned to a soldier. “Disarm and escort them to JL-45. Three of you should be sufficient as guards. The rest are dismissed.”

**OOO**

Skye tested the bonds on her wrists experimentally. _Tight, metal cord. Inflexible. Either I snap it or my wrist._ She met Ward’s gaze. He and Coulson were bound tightly to chairs fixed to the ground on the other side of the room, expressions blank as usual.

The soldiers stood to attention, rifles ready.

The man with the Cybertek lapel re-entered, pushing a trolley. “Check those two’s handcuffs again. They have a reputation -” He indicated Ward and Coulson indifferently, “for slithering loose. Kill them after interrogation.” The soldiers checked, found them loose and roughly bound them again with thick metal cuffs.

The Cybertek man stared at Skye and she glowered back rebelliously. “My employers have been looking for you for a long time,” he remarked quietly, withdrawing a cartridge from the trolley and sliding it into an unmarked gun.

“You know, you could have just called her. Or texted. She has a phone. Why the automatons in Paolo Alto? Or why leak information about this _Obelisk_ -“ Coulson winced sardonically, “to our servers? Or plant the blueprints with encryptions?” _Keep talking, Coulson. Two minutes. I just need two minutes to work these damn cords._

“Believe me, we intended to get her in California. The blueprints were a failsafe in case you got away – or if I may, a test of sorts. And to assuage your doubts about coming here, the Obelisk is very much real. We require her assistance with it.”

Across the room, she saw Coulson furrow his brow and Ward attempt to move his arm slightly against his chair. _Just thirty seconds more. Thirty seconds to lose these cuffs._

The man aimed the gun at her arm. “This,” he said with an almost loving caress in his voice, “is a liquid tracker bullet. You can’t dig it out. Once it pierces your skin, it dissolves into the bloodstream for weeks. My invention.”

He fired twice. Skye screamed and jerked violently in her chair. Ward made a sudden, harsh movement against his bonds. In a flash, Skye had dropped her cuffs and pinned her elbows around the man’s neck, blood flowing steadily down her arm. “Shoot and I break his neck.” The soldiers held their fire.

She edged backwards slowly. Like lightning, she rammed the Cybertek man headfirst into one of the soldiers, twisted the rifle out of his grip and shot a soldier behind her. Bullets stuttered from the rifles. She ducked behind her metal chair and aimed. The man with the Cybertek lapel and another soldier dropped to the ground, shot cleanly through the chest. “Bastard,” she hissed, applying pressure to the wound in her arm.

The last soldier slid his rifle on the floor and held up his hands. She dropkicked him to the ground and held the rifle to his temple. “Tell me where Digital Command is and I let you go free. Or - I’ll kill you.”

“Straight down from here, two lefts. Has giant metal hangar doors. You can’t miss it. Please. I have kids.”

“Cool. Thanks.” She knocked him out cold in one swift motion and sank dizzily to the floor, her arm slippery with blood.

She heard the _crack_ of Ward dislocating his wrist behind her and breaking out of his cuffs. “Skye!” He put his hands on her cheeks and tilted her head back to make eye contact. “Skye, listen to me. Apply pressure. Hard.” Rummaging frantically in the trolley, he came up with a roll of cotton gauze and bandages.

“I can do it. Help Coulson.” She reached for them and began dressing her wound. Ward undid Coulson’s bonds and returned to her side.

“Nineteen months of combat training," he said wryly, deftly wrapping a stiff bandage around her arm. “Not bad, rookie.”

“You know I’m officially an agent now, right? Just because I asked you to continue training me doesn’t mean the SO thing still goes on,” she tossed back.

He helped her up and gave her a rare smile. “Does that make you less of a rookie?”

Coulson rubbed his wrists and checked her over. “Skye, all good? We should get moving.” He reached for the door handle. Skye seized his hand before he could open it.

“Coulson,” she said softly. “You and Ward head back to the rendezvous point. I’ll digitally transmit the files to the Bus.”

“What?” Coulson gave her a once-over and knit his brows. “This is a team mission. You are not going to Digital Command alone. That’s an order.”

“They _embedded a_ _tracker_ in me, Coulson! I’m not going with you either way – no, don’t interrupt me. I’m expendable and compromised now. Both of you – are not. And if you think for a second that I’d put my team at risk,” she took a deep breath and went on in a low, fierce tone, “I won’t ever allow the Bus to be tracked. It’s my life over five of theirs, or two of yours. You understand. You have to understand.”

The anguish that flared in Coulson’s eyes was palpable. “Coulson…” He pulled her into a brief hug, then nodded once, painfully, as though it cost him the world to do it. They broke apart.

Ward made an abrupt gesture. “No! Skye, you can’t. Your arm is hurt. You’ve only just completed training. Not alone. Let me go with you.” He took her hands in his tightly.

Skye felt the beginning of tears sting her eyes, but she shook her head firmly. “I’m your SO, Skye!” The desperate pressure of his hands on hers increased. “I’m going with you. I was your SO.”

“It’s more than that. It’s more than that, right?” she murmured, suddenly. She touched his face with her left hand and gently turned his head to look at her. Their eyes met and his carefully calculated mask melted off completely. She reached up and pressed her lips to his. He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. There was yearning and despair, hunger, and fire in the connection all at once. She pulled away at last and leaned her forehead against his, looking him dead in the eye.

“You could put together a team to come back for me after you figure out the 0-8-4. Let me go now,” she managed to say, voice scratchy, her fingers stroking over his brow bones, his eyelids. The grip of his hands on the sides of her face tightened. “We’re out of time. Grant. Please.”

His eyes filled with grief. The unbearable, prickly silence went on. “Yeah,” he forced out. He let go, closed his eyes and stepped away from her, fists curled into balls. 

“Keep him safe,” she said quietly to Coulson. She stole a last look at Ward and saw that his eyes were wet. Before she could lose her resolve, Skye turned the door handle. Went straight down the corridor and made two lefts, rifle raised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The electrical failure of the ceiling lights/team’s comms in this chapter is a reference to the localized EMPs in AoS.


	4. On Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could see drops of sweat falling everywhere, rolling down his nose, down his shirt, on the back of his hands. "Damn it," he whispered. He pounded blow after blow viciously, his fists stinging. "Dammit, Skye." He hit harder. "DAMN IT!" The bag split down the seams and sand trickled to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Carolyn here! I've started work on Chapter 5 and it'll hopefully be coming up soon. If you have any feedback or questions on FFTF for me, please leave me a comment. I don't have a beta - and I would really like one - so writing these on short notice are difficult!

The timer on her watch flashed. _Eight minutes._

The small data room in the Digital Command Centre was crammed closely with blinking rows of electronic storage machines. Skye, hunched over a small table in the corner, computer hooked up to the data system, stared desperately at the screen. The file transfer took eight minutes longer than she had, which would be fine - except she needed to confirm the transfer for completion.

Already, there were footsteps outside. Not the regular footsteps of unarmed Cybertek researchers, but the heavy marching of soldiers' boots _. Five minutes._ The soldiers stormed into the data room like a swarm of black flies, ICERs raised.

The room was empty. Above them in the ceiling air vent, Skye kept dead silent. "The tracker says she's here. Search the room." _One minute._

One of the soldiers looked up cursorily and made eye contact with Skye through the grate. His eyes widened. Skye swore and ripped the grate off. Leaping down, she shattered the metal grate hard over his head and dashed madly for her computer. She smashed the "Enter" key.

Behind her, eight ICERs fired at once.

**OOO**

Back in the Bus, the electronic servers began flashing. "She's done it!" The team, huddled around the holotable in the briefing room, broke out in a cacophony of yells. "We've got the files!"

"Arrange extraction," May urged, shoulders stiff. "Skye could still be there –"

"No." Coulson cut in harshly, "She didn't want that. I have to put the team first. And with the tracker, chances are she's already been – taken captive."

He heard a bang and saw Ward slamming the door on his way out. FitzSimmons had silent tears in their eyes. May pressed her lips and turned away, unable to speak. It sunk in, slowly, that Skye was not there. Skye, with her constant flow of effervescent humour, and scathing sarcasm. Skye, with her beaming joy on full blast when she was happy, and her biting, indignant outrage when she was not. They had lost her. Coulson's head sank into his hands, the pain in his chest expanding.

Downstairs, Ward tore furiously into the punching bag with his fists. He could see drops of sweat falling everywhere, rolling down his nose, down his shirt, on the back of his hands. "Damn it," he whispered. He pounded blow after blow viciously, his fists stinging. "Dammit, Skye." He hit harder. "DAMN IT!" The bag split down the seams and sand trickled to the ground.

He stopped himself, breathing heavily.

Coulson was standing behind him. He steadied his expression and tried to slow his breathing before turning around, not quite able to conceal the ache in his eyes. "Sir."

"I want to know who employed that Cybertek man and what they want with Skye," Coulson said crisply. He passed Ward a standard S.H.I.E.L.D tablet. "Read the files on the Obelisk. You might be able to track down something that can lead us to her."

"They shot her with a tracker. Even if we can extract her -"

"I stripped the trolley. The tracker bullet cartridges, gun, some other odds-and-ends. Simmons is trying to create something to neutralize the tracking agent in her bloodstream. We just need Skye's location."

Ward took the tablet. Coulson frowned at the punching bag and nudged the sand mound piling up on the ground with his shoe. "I miss her, too," he said, gently.

"Yeah." Ward's jaw tightened. "I'll get that cleaned up."

At dinner later, his place was empty. A few packets of instant coffee had disappeared from the pantry drawer. The light in Ward's bunk was switched on till the wee hours of the morning.

**OOO**

_~ Two weeks later. ~_

He sat cross-legged on his narrow bed, scrutinizing the files, eyes watering from staring at the screen for so long.

Rubbing his eyes roughly, he opened another document labelled _The Global Potential & Utilisation of The Obelisk. _The text was a jumbled mess of gibberish. He blinked and re-opened it. It remained a mash of alphabet soup. He sat bolt upright.

Skye had run a mass decryption of the files before transfer. This document had encryption so deeply embedded, so secure, that Skye's decryption system had not worked. 

It hit him suddenly. _A decryption system the world's best hacker designed had not worked._ Everything clicked at once. The Global Potential of the Obelisk - impossible to decrypt. The absence of Cybertek watermarks on the digital files. 

A memory registered in his head _. The Cybertek man had referred to Skye as "the hacker"..._ The world's best hacker.

"Cybertek took the files and the Obelisk from somewhere," he said aloud in his bunk. "And now they need her to decrypt the file on…on how to use it for world domination."

He pulled up Skye's bio on his tablet and double-checked her computer science qualifications. A long, detailed list of accomplishments blinked back up at him, ending with " _the foremost global expert in computer science, cryptography & cybersecurity._" He sighed, theory confirmed, and switched off the lights.

Tentatively, he picked up the tablet again and scrolled to Skye's official headshot. The photograph of her, eyes sparkling and curls falling across her face, made his stomach twist. He traced his finger slowly over her face. Then, he set the tablet on his nightstand, rolled over and lay staring at the ceiling in the dark - until he was asleep.

There was a flurry at the lab the next afternoon. May observed from outside as Fitz and Simmons moved frantically from lab counter to counter, arms waving, yelling noiselessly at each other through the soundproof glass. They appeared to finally come to some sort of consensus. The lab doors slid open and the pair strode out, lab coats flapping from the air-conditioner.

"New developments?" May asked.

"If you could please gather the team," Simmons replied, barely able to hold back her elated agitation, "I think you'll find that we have a few."

Ward and Coulson were talking in the briefing room when they entered. Coulson stopped mid-sentence and looked up. "Fitz, Simmons, could you neutralize the tracker?"

Fitz scoffed. "Our neutralizer tests on the tracking agent registered positive days ago. No, this isn't about that lousy piece of - "

Jemma smacked his arm and cut in, "We may potentially have Skye's location. The tracking bullets…how they work is they emit signals once in liquid form. The gun they're fired with, receives the signals." She sniffed. "Doubtless they have other software capable of receiving these specific location signals. Antennae, transmitters, specially-programmed devices..."

"Yes – and the gun was passcode-protected. Until recently. A simulation I set up cracked it this morning. So if we hook up the gun to our data streams now -" Fitz turned over the holster to expose an electrical port in the gun. "We can track her location." He plugged a cord in.

The holotable illuminated a three-dimensional hologram of a building. A deep blue dot of light pulsated in the right wing, basement floor of the building. Skye.

"Geneva." Coulson breathed. "May –"

"On it."


	5. Drink Before The War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team rescues Skye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was having a lot of trouble with this chapter and cut out a lot of unnecessary scenes. Thanks for leaving a kudo if you did! The chapter title is taken from Sinead O' Connor's song "Drink Before The War".

_Geneva, Cybertek Facility_

“There are two entrances to the room Skye’s being kept in.” Fitz’s voice buzzed over the comms. “May, take the left. Ward, right. Doors at the end.”

Ward advanced into the passageway on the right, arms locked in a shooter’s stance. His eyes swept the corridor. “Clear.”

“Not on my side.“ May’s voice crackled in his ear. The sound of her fist breaking someone’s face issued clearly through the comms. “I’ll manage.”

Ward kept moving. There was eerie, utter silence except for his footsteps.

“Please. _No -_ no _\- p_ _lease!_ ” Skye’s cry of pain rang out clearly from the room far down the long, white corridor. Ward’s head snapped up.

 _"DON'T! PLEASE -"_ The drawn-out scream that followed, so long and agonized that it stretched thinly on even as her voice cracked.

He bolted down the corridor, fear hammering beat after beat in the back of his throat, sheer panic clouding his head so hard he could think of nothing else. He burst into the room, guns blazing. A spray of bullets mowed down four guards so quickly that their bodies were hitting the floor before he registered that he had even pulled the trigger. 

Skye was strapped into an electric chair, electrodes fastened on her head and legs. Her body spasmed once, twice – a thin stream of blood ran past her lips. He ran to the control panel and killed the electricity. She slumped forward in the chair, semi-conscious.

“Skye!” Tossing his gun roughly on the ground, he began ripping the electrodes off. She fell limply against him and he grabbed her shoulders.

“Skye. No. Skye, stay with me. Stay with me, Skye -” Half-dragging, half-carrying, he got them to the floor. His hands were on her face, her forehead, her neck, checking for her pulse, trying to find a wound to staunch. Her clothes clung to her skin, sticky with blood, leaving red stains all over his fingers. “Skye, look at me, look at me. Please, Skye. Please –“

May flung the door open on the other side of the room, breathing hard. She took in the scene of the four dead guards and Skye bleeding out, on the floor.

“Help me, we need to get her out, I’m losing her!”

May knelt at Skye’s side, jammed a needle with the neutralizer serum in her wrist and locked her arms under Skye’s knees. “On three. Three. Two. One.“

She and Ward lifted Skye together. Immediately, she blacked out from the pain and her dead weight collapsed into their arms. An alarm promptly began shrieking throughout the building. Cursing, Ward and May ran for the extraction point, clinging on to her for dear life.

Everything flew by in a feverish blur. The half-running, half-shooting at the pursuing guards. Climbing back on to the Bus. Flying to the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D facility with a medical centre. Watching the medics load Skye on a gurney and take her into surgery, Simmons barking orders on their tail. The clean, concrete wall in front of him. 

It was only when Ward’s feet began tingling painfully with pins-and-needles that he noticed he had not moved for hours. The doors to the surgery slid open. Simmons walked out.

He got up, quickly. “Will she live?”

Jemma looked down at her hands. “Honestly, Ward, I -“ her voice cracked. “I don’t know. We’re doing all we can, but she’s in a comatose state. Cardiac arrest. I couldn’t tell you if she’d wake up.”

Something behind Ward’s eyes broke. He asked, numbly, “Do you – do you know if she was tortured? Long-term?”

Simmons nodded, tears glossing over her eyes. She did not elaborate. He knew she was trying to spare him the details, but a stab of pain came anyway.

“Get cleaned up and catch some rest, Ward.” She looked at his shirt, crusted with dried blood. “I’ll let you know if anything changes. Promise.”

“Yeah. Simmons – thanks.” He typed a quick update to Coulson and returned to the facility’s aircraft hangar. Found himself stumbling foggily back into the Bus, retrieving a clean set of clothes and standing, for a long time, under the cold spray of water in the shower. Skye’s blood rinsed gradually off his arms and swirled down the drain with the soapy water.

A text message was waiting for him when he got back to his bunk. _Transferring her to the Bus’s med pod tomorrow. Thought you’d want to know. – Simmons_

He switched off the tablet and placed it facedown on his bedside table. In the semi-darkness, the image of Skye laughing at him over their pasta, brown hair tumbling in waves over her shoulders, was as sharp as crystal.

He forced the memory away. _Put it in a box,_ he reminded himself. _You can’t get attached._ He made himself relax into the mattress, muscle group after muscle group. In his mind, he visualised closing a box on Skye and compartmentalizing it efficiently away in a filing cabinet.

She refused to stay in. The vision of her bleeding heavily and screaming continuously in the interrogation chamber, burst out of the mental box.

He got up and made for the punching bag.

**OOO**

The days stretched into weeks. The Bus flew from Geneva to Luxembourg to Canada, picking up missions. The very quality of the air was constantly hushed and tense, disquiet lingering over the team like a thundercloud before the rain, or the light, dancing prickles of fear during a mission.

Simmons, often followed by Fitz, was constantly flitting in and out of the medical pod, replacing drip bags and checking on Skye’s pulse and breathing. Early, before the days turned to light, May was sometimes seen exiting the pod quietly. The fatigued defeat on Coulson’s face when they had first lost Skye never left nowadays.

Some nights, Ward slept in a chair by Skye’s bed, organized files of written notes on Cybertek and the Obelisk still open in his lap.

He was not exactly sure how this had become routine. He tapped a code into the wall and the doors to the medical pod slid open. Lying there with an oxygen mask fitted over her nose, Skye looked pale and drained amongst the pillows and softly beeping machines. The lines of pain were etched on her face even after all this time. He pulled up a chair and started analysing Cybertek’s movements.

They had locations all over the world – America, Europe, Asia. Recently, more and more had sprung up. S.H.I.E.L.D had been raiding as many as they could, but the bureaucratic red tape at the top of the chain was slow. A simmer of frustration re-ignited in his stomach. The only way they could eliminate Cybertek was to figure out who the big-money sponsor funding them was. Cybertek’s pockets appeared to be never-ending, but the paper trails showed their profits were finite. 

Two hours later, he slammed his files on the table in disgust. Skye made a little sound in her sleep. Ward glanced over at her. Hesitantly, he reached across the bed frame and grasped her hand. It was thin and fragile as a bird’s claw. Curling his fingers, their palms touched. He stroked her hair, until the shadow of pain in her expression smoothed over.

“You have to come back, Skye. The team needs you.” He laughed a little derisively at himself, feeling ridiculously exposed. But the words had to be articulated, if only to make them concrete to himself. “I’ll nail the bastards. I promise.”

He continued stroking her hair until he was out like a light, dreamlessly asleep with his head against the wall.

“Hey.” The voice seemed a million miles away. He started awake in his chair and saw Skye looking at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her eyes – they were open. She was smiling faintly at him from behind the oxygen mask and scanning her surroundings, slightly disoriented.

“Hey,” he replied, rubbing his eyes and looking at her in disbelief.

She tried to sit up and her eyes travelled suddenly to his hand, still wrapped around hers tightly. Ward reddened and snatched his hand away. Skye grabbed it and curled her fingers around his deliberately. He tentatively returned the pressure.

“Thought we’d lost you for a second there.”

“Me too. What happened? What day is it?”

“About five weeks since Austria. You’ve been comatose for two-and-a-half.” Tenderly, he traced his thumb over her eyebrow. "After Austria, they took you to Switzerland. Fitz managed to trace you. You're on the Bus now."

"Oh."

They sat in comfortable silence. Finally, he released her hand and stood up reluctantly. “I should let them know you’re awake. Be back in five.”

“Uh-huh.” She paused. Softly, “Ward - thanks. For getting me out.”

He nodded woodenly and turned away to hide the emotion suddenly welling up in his eyes.


	6. The Ashes Of The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-torture trauma. TW: PTSD, night terrors and self-harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely reviews. For bookmarking and your kudos. X

_~Ten days later.~_

Ward was waiting outside, arms crossed, when Coulson emerged from the medical pod. “Skye completed her mission report? Any intel on Cybertek I’m cleared for, sir?”

“You were right about them needing her to decrypt the file, Agent Ward. She didn’t break from the torture, so she’s still a potential target.” Coulson’s tone was grim. “Cybertek utilised paid mercenaries with instructions. Whoever’s driving the Obelisk project never got their own hands dirty.”

“The Cybertek man in Austria –“

“Was our last lead. His employers are untraceable. Cybertek’s primary researchers aren’t involved. This Obelisk scheme is some kind of black side project. And Ward?” Coulson moved further away from the medical pod. Ward matched his stride. “I can’t shake the feeling that Skye’s hiding something. Extract what intel you can. And keep an eye on her.”

“Of course.”

Simmons came up from the lab, smiling at them. “Oh, has Skye finished her report, Coulson? I’ll just go get her discharged and settled, then. Ward, she should be fit for rehab training whenever. But don’t push her.” Brushing past, she continued to the pod.

**OOO**

Ward was nursing a late-night coffee, his analysis files on the pantry counter, when a scream split through the air. He dumped the cup in the sink and sprinted out to the common space, on the alert. The screams stilled for a moment and started again heart-wrenchingly.

Coulson dashed down the spiral stairs from his office and caught his eye. He nodded quickly and they tore open the door to Skye’s bunk. In her sleep, she was flailing and kicking within her blankets, dementedly screaming her lungs out. The sheer nightmarish horror of the sight struck them both like a bucket of cold water straight in the face.

Ward wedged into the space between the door and her bed and warily laid his hand on her shoulder. “Skye. Skye, wake up.”

She jolted upright at his touch, gasping violently, eyes glassy and distant with terror. Frantically, she backed away from him into the corner of her bed, wrapping her arms defensively around herself.

“It’s us." Coulson calmly held up his hands. “Relax. It’s just us.”

The sound of his voice made her start in fear. She curled further into a ball, blankets tangling around her legs. All she could feel was the stunning blow after blow in the interrogation chamber, the screaming still going round and round her ears, the restraints forcing her in place – the room swirled and melted away and suddenly she was in the darkness of her bunk, relentless shudders of nausea and confusion wracking her body.

“Skye, I need you to breathe. Breathe.” Coulson’s voice drifted in from far away.

She shut her eyes tightly and shook her head pleadingly into her knees, unable to process anything. Ward inched closer and put his hands gradually on her shoulders.

“Hey,” he whispered, under his breath. “It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re safe.” She felt a cool hand brush damp strands of hair back from her face. “I promise. It’s okay.”

The cold, queasy prickling in her head cleared a tiny bit. She reached out blindly until her hands were touching his arms. They felt steadying and warm. He allowed her to burrow her face into his shirt. Gingerly, he put her arms around her, trying not to betray his discomfort with the physical contact.

“I’ll take care of her,” he mouthed over her shoulder. The door slid shut as Coulson withdrew from the bunk in acquiescence.

Ward sighed and drew Skye closer in his arms. She was still shivering with silent sobs, but the fear in her eyes had lessened now, replaced by grief so deep-seated he was not sure it would ever fully ebb. In the cramped darkness, he held Skye firmly against him, for what felt like an eternity. She cried quietly into his shirt. He let her. The trembling of her body died down eventually and her breathing slowed. When she finally dropped off to sleep, fully cried-out, he eased her back on to her pillow, shook out her crumpled duvets and layered them over her meticulously. He paused to check that she was fully asleep before slipping out of her quarters, his shirt still wet through with her tears.

Early the next morning he found Skye in the gym before him, furiously attacking the punching bag, fists swathed thickly in boxing hand wraps. Her eyes had swelled up around the sides and the crusty rims of old tears were visible. He came down the stairs without comment and held the bag in place for her.

She ignored him and continued hitting for a long time, working off her emotions. There was an abrupt intake of breath - she dealt a final sharp blow to the bag and threw her hands up in frustration, apparently unable to decide what to say. There was a pause. From behind the bag, she mumbled, awkwardly, “Ward, about last night - I’m sorry that happened.”

“Why?” his voice was hard. “They tortured you. And I let them. Whoever’s fault it is, it isn’t yours.” He released the punching bag and stepped towards her. She pulled away on reflex, clenching her fists behind her back.

A flash of hurt flitted briefly across his face. Skye swallowed and looked at the ground, biting her lip and guiltily stuffing her hands in the pockets of her tactical pants. For a millisecond, he was baffled by her odd behaviour.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. “What're you hiding? Show me your hands.”

“What? Go to hell, Ward!” she spat, backing angrily away like a trapped wild animal. He blocked her exit and tried to grab her wrists. She tore adamantly away.

“Skye - don’t.” There was a gentleness to Ward’s voice that had not been there before. He stretched out his hands, palms facing up. “I won’t hurt you. Let me see.”

Her vision blurred with tears.

Slowly, reluctantly, she placed her hands on his. He looked at her for assent before unravelling the boxing wraps, piece by piece. The first, dry layer peeled off easily. The second had brown stains. He exhaled deeply. The innermost bandages were soaked with blood, stuck like glue to the deep gashes in her hands.

“Let’s get you to med bay." His voice was flat, devoid of inflection.

She stared fixedly behind them at the taped-up split seam in the punching bag, unable to meet his eyes. He released her hands.

There was a rustle of him disposing her blood-specked boxing hand wraps in the bin. Then his hand crept on to her elbow and steered her to the sink at the medical bay.

The tap water stung like hell. She watched, deadened to the pain, as the water ran red. Gradually, the blood rinsed off, exposing the diagonal cuts she had sliced across her palms. Ward dried her hands with a sterile cloth and dabbed on antiseptic medication.

She got up on the counter and closed her eyes to avoid looking at him. He began sewing up the open wounds. Finally, he cleared the suturing kit away, wiped the water around the sink and retrieved a couple of bandages.

“Are you going to say something?” Skye resignedly glanced up at last, voice brittle. “Lock me up in a loony ward? Tell Coulson?”

“No. But if you need - anything, you know where I am.” He took her hand and smoothed a bandage on over the stitches. “You don’t have to bear it alone, Skye.”

She nodded mutely, reduced to tears again. He handed her a bunch of tissues and tucked a loose curl carefully behind her ear.

She wiped her eyes. “Okay. Thanks.”

Timidly, she leaned her head, hot from crying, against his shoulder. He touched her face and rested his lips against her forehead. They stood like that, almost peacefully, for a long time.


	7. Tell Me It's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye reveals what really happened at Cybertek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! And I am so sorry about the late update - I've given you twice the length as usual for that! X Carolyn

It was four in the morning. The light in her bunk was switched on for the third night in a row. Ward frowned briefly and knocked. There was a creak of the bedsprings and the soft pad of her feet on the floor. “Ward?” Skye stuck her head out, stifling a yawn. “Anything wrong?”

“No. Just saw you were up and thought I’d check.”

She stepped back to let him in. There was a small mound of used coffee packets littering her nightstand and the fresh remains of black coffee in her mug. He glanced at them but made no remark.

“You searched my bunk and stole all my stuff. I can’t even shave my legs. I promise I’m fine.” Skye rolled her eyes and smiled sleepily at him. “So you been up going through the 0-8-4 files until now?”

“Yeah. Was updating the databases.”

He paused, figuring it was as good a time as any to broach the subject she had been deflecting for weeks.

“I could use your input actually. What happened - exactly while you were with Cybertek? Anything you might have missed from the report? “

It was as if he had flipped a switch. In an instant, her expression was icy. “What I missed from the report? Maybe Coulson asking you to keep tabs on me.”

He realised he had been too obvious. “Look. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you – “

“Oh, cut the crap. So he did ask you to extract information from me.”

“So you are hiding something,” he countered.

She clenched her teeth. “So there are things I’m not ready to talk about. But they aren’t related to your analysis. I followed protocol. I gave him everything he needed to know. Now get out.”

“It’s not your decision when they could be targeting you again. Any detail might make a difference.” The irritation in his voice matched hers easily. “You know, I’ve been chasing trails and analysing their movements. Trying to get raid approval from HQ for months. Coulson’s right. I need to know what you’re not telling us.”

The rage drained away from her, leaving her eyes emotionlessly blank. She switched off the light, sat on the bed and put her head in her hands.

“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t. Not right now.” She lay down and turned over to face the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. “Please leave.”

He left without further argument, knowing it was fruitless to push her further.

The next evening, there was silence in the gym except for the sound of her hands sliding on the pull-up bar and his rhythmic blows to the bag. Even right beside him, he could feel Skye drawing away into herself, trying to put as much space between them as possible.

The thought of Skye, fearless, dauntless Skye doing something like that unsettled him. Coulson was right. Skye had changed.

“Going to ignore me for the rest of training?” he clipped out, finally. “You know I was under orders.”

“I'm not ignoring you."

He almost snorted. 

She stopped pulling herself up, hanging loosely from the bar. "And I don’t want to hide anything from you. I just – Figuring out how to say it.”

“Oh. Really?" Ward punched the bag again to cover the tone of surprise. "We can talk over dinner. If you want.”

She finished her set of pull-ups and dropped listlessly to the ground. Her head ached. “I’m not hungry. Think I’ll just shower and head to my bunk.”

He looked up at her carefully, examining her. There were dark circles under her eyes and the fatigued paleness in her face had been there so long it seemed a part of her now.

Gently, cautiously, he rested his hand on her arm. “Look, not my place – I know. But you haven’t been eating or sleeping. You didn’t have lunch today. Fitz is concerned about you. He’s been tracking the food rations.”

Skye glared at the ground, on the verge of closing off again. Ward sighed.

“You don’t have to say anything over dinner if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not like that.” She paused, selecting her words. “I throw up when I eat. This – nausea just hits. Jemma thinks it’s psychogenic. I asked her not to say anything.” She laughed dryly. “It’s funny, you know. Just totally out of whack that I’m sitting here in the Bus _eating_. Still feels like – like I’m with Cybertek sometimes.”

“You’re vomiting? Do you want to check with –“

She cut him off, hating the worry in his voice. “And I’m sorry about last night. This isn’t fair to you.”

She removed his hand miserably from her elbow and headed for the showers without so much as a second glance.

**OOO**

“Skye?” Warily, he nudged the door open. She was curled up on her bed. “Brought you some soup. I thought maybe it could help. With the nausea.”

Edging past, he set the bowl on her bedside table.

A slight pang of regret went through her.

“Ward.” She caught his arm as he turned to go, indicating the space beside her. He tensed, expression guarded, but sat down.

Steadily, she looked into his eyes, tilting his chin down until their noses were grazing, so close that her breath feathered across his lips. He could sense the unspoken apology in her touch. “Listen. I know I haven’t been myself,” she murmured, slipping her fingers into his palm. “But I just – I need time. I’m trying to come back to you. I mean it.”

The seriousness he saw in her dark eyes, the way her hair was mussed slightly with frizz in the orange lamplight, was magnetic, indescribably beautiful. His defences, all his resistance, frustration and hurt, melted away like rain.

“I don’t care about that. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He swallowed hard to dispel the sudden dryness of his mouth. “I can wait for you. Until you’re ready.”

She reached for his face then, and began kissing him softly. Her lips were supple, hesitant, tugging at his mouth with a fragility that left his heart numb and everywhere else tingling. He made a low groan at the back of his throat and instinctively pulled her closer, responding against her mouth as strongly as he could. The feel of his hands running lightly down her sides and the familiarity of his clean, crisp smell sent short, strong sparks of warmth into her stomach. The pressure of their kisses deepened, the movement of his lips quickening. At last, she pulled back, breathless, still caressing every inch of his face she could reach with her fingertips.

Leaning her head on his shoulder, she let out a little sigh that made him want to kiss her again. There was a temporary lull of peace.

“Grant. What happened at Cybertek,” she quietly began. “After they took me, they beat me up. Starved me a little. Electrocuted me. They uh, detained me in a sensory deprivation chamber. White room torture.”

His hold tightened, almost protectively, around her. “I know. I saw your report. What else?”

He heard her breathe sharply, as though in pain. “There were two children. A girl and a boy. Siblings. I don’t know how Cybertek got hold of them.” Her voice was raw, pleading. “I tried to decrypt the file. What was inside, just the first page – it was genocide. Millions of lives wiped out in seconds. I re-encrypted everything before they could see.”

“They used the Obelisk on the boy first. Then the little girl. The screaming –“ The last word was an irrepressible hiss, the tears falling thick and fast. “I had to _watch_ them turn to stone. I killed them. _I killed them!_ ”

He felt cold all over.

“I’m a monster.” She twisted out of his hold, furiously scratching and clawing at her arms. She was shaking like a leaf. “Don’t touch me. I’m a monster.”

Ward forcefully gripped her hands until she stopped trying to hurt herself and started rubbing her wrists in slow, soothing circles. “No. Skye, look at me. This isn’t your fault.” He gathered her against him in his arms, rocking her slightly back and forth, brushing his mouth against the hollow of her temple. “You’re not a monster. You had no choice. You didn’t have a choice.”

She huddled into his chest as though trying to melt into him, still shivering uncontrollably, the horror and self-loathing fresh in her eyes. Feverishly, he kissed her forehead again and pulled back to look her in the eye. “I’m sorry I pushed. I didn’t know.” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose and kissed her chin, murmuring against her skin, “I shouldn’t ever have let you go in there alone. I’m sorry.” He dropped another lingering kiss against her jaw. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“No,” she forced out between sobs. “It kept me sane in there. The thought that you and Coulson were safe. I’d do it again.”

He stroked her hair, feeling her chest rise and fall against his own, not knowing what to say.

“You’ve done this for what? Fourteen years?” A mumble of assent against her hair. “How do you deal with the pain? The missions that are all – wrong?”

“I don’t deal with the pain, Skye. I push it down. Compartmentalize.” He pressed his face into hers; not a kiss, just contact. “It’s easier sometimes.”

She sighed shakily and closed her eyes to visualise. The box opened, she put her pain away and with a tremendous effort, shut the lid. When she opened her eyes, the ache and emptiness was still piercing as ever, but the reckless, fevered grief had drained a little.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

In answer, she got up and took the soup on her nightstand. It was chicken broth from a can, still faintly warm. She managed a couple of mouthfuls before shifting to the edge of her bed and twisting on her side.

“Can you sleep here?” Skye asked, abruptly. “With me?”

He sat there, simply looking at her for a moment. Just as she thought he would refuse, he lowered himself down on the narrow space beside her. She took his arm and looped it around her waist and he tugged her closer immediately. Her palm came up to rest gently on his chest. He was awake, feeling the wetness of her cheeks dampen his shirt, listening to the undulating pattern of her breathing, until she had finally fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking a lot on how to shape Ward's character as of late. I think Ward's uncharacteristic tenderness in this fic is due to his relationship with Skye being much deeper here than it was in the TV series. This is the version of what might have happened if Skye had joined S.H.I.E.L.D earlier, met him and already went through the phases of disliking Ward, regarding him as a mentor, a friend, and then as a love interest - with time for the r/s to develop.
> 
> I also noticed how TV series Ward had relationships with girls whom he had some measure of control over (eg. Skye, when he was much more experienced than her and Kara, when she was in a lost and easily manipulated state of mind.) This was probably due to the amount of control he let Garrett exert over him; it was his twisted idea of security, his idea of love. I say it was Garrett because in the Framework, Hand's version of Ward has a much more equal, mutual relationship with Skye. 
> 
> To circumvent this, I wrote the plot differently - S1 Skye is more experienced here, having been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for longer (this is set during what was originally the period of the Centipede project) and secondly, Ward's protective "control" comes in the form of concern and constant checking in with her because her current emotional state of withdrawal does not let him do much else. In spite of this, Ward is still a career-focused spy with his own motives. He does care for Skye - but his motive as of now is to carry out orders and stay undercover, definitely not to fall for her and thus, exhibits some measure of restraint and duplicity.


	8. The Hub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retelling of The Hub episode, but fitted into a different storyline and different character dynamic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main difference here is, again, simply that the team has been formed earlier on and had more time learning to work with and trust each other. Besides the Obelisk plotline, the main change I've made in this fic is that the relationships between the team are far deeper than they originally were in S1, owing to a longer time period together.

A knock. “Ward. You still up?”

His bunk door opened promptly, as though he had known she would be outside. “Yeah. You? Rough night?”

“The usual.” She sighed softly. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

**OOO**

“So, Skye, first visit to the Hub? What do you think?” Simmons beamed, peering eagerly over the railing.

The stark fluorescent lights and gleaming steel and glass were everywhere, blinding and harsh. Down below, the vast atrium crawled with agents in black suits and tactical gear. _Just like the Cybertek Digital Command_ , Skye thought faintly, rubbing her arms to quell the goosebumps.

She realised Simmons was looking expectantly at her, bright smile now a bit strained. “Yeah, uh, it’s – great. Didn't realise Big Brother was this big. So this is headquarters?”

Fitz patted her back clumsily. “The headquarters for Special Ops and Sci-Tech at least. The Triskelion is the HQ for financial resources. You should see it. This is nothing."

“Oh. You guys used to be stationed there?” With an effort, she manipulated her irritation into a calm facade of vague interest. The hot, itchy prickles on the inside of her skin were starting to manifest in sharp spurts of anger. She hated the repressed worry in their voices, at the back of every conversation like white noise. She hated the bumbling pats on the back, the sympathetic smiles –

She hated herself for not being able to keep her pain away from them. The irrational anger leaked away; an unspeakable hollowness consumed its place.

Fidgeting distractedly, she muttered, “How long do you think they’re going to take? Stupid clearance levels –“

The tinted glass doors in front of them opened as if on cue. May, Coulson and Ward strode out, accompanied by a dark-haired woman in a sharp business suit.

“Agents Fitz, Simmons. Skye.” Ward gestured in curt introduction. “Agent Victoria Hand, Director of Operations. We’ve been liaising on the Cybertek raids.”

Agent Hand nodded in stiff acknowledgement, then continued her conversation with Coulson. “You understand this mission is highly classified.” She sniffed coldly. “Try to spare the specifics, even with your team. Fury will have your ass if my men are compromised.”

Coulson nodded, equally straight-faced. “Fair enough. But the team I’m sending in deserves the full picture. I expect every detail sent in to me.”

She took her time weighing him up. Eventually, she stuck out a hand. “We’ll see about that. Later, Agent Ward, Agent May. I’ll leave you to debrief your team.”

May and Ward tersely watched Hand walk away.

“Wow, she’s almost as nice as you two specialists.” Skye shrugged absently. “Is this cold, prickly I-hate-you thing some requirement to be part of Ops?”

May raised her eyebrows with a hint of humour. “Is that her first insult in sixteen days?”

“Seventeen,” Simmons cheerfully responded. “I almost believe you’ve missed being slighted by her, May.”

“Okay, okay, didn’t realise how starved of affection you guys are.” Skye crossed her arms defensively, following Ward into the nearest secure conference room. “So debrief? Ward?”

“Yeah, about that.” He shut the door behind them. “There’s a Cybertek base in Slovakia. My intel suggests main research on the Obelisk is ongoing here.”

Skye closed her eyes briefly, feeling sick. “So raid it.”

Coulson crossed his arms. “That’s the problem. They’ve built an Overkill Device. It creates sonic vibrations –“

“- powerful enough to deactivate explosive and combustion-based weapons from kilometres away. Guns, missiles, hand grenades, nuclear warheads...other advanced devices,” Fitz blurted out, completing his sentence. “S.H.I.E.L.D can’t raid it.”

Skye felt her hands start shaking, the recollections of the torture suddenly slamming into her like a snowball. She clutched the briefing table until the wood was digging into her fingers, trying to stop the onslaught of memories. The pain helped her focus. Behind her, she felt Ward’s hand discreetly come up under her hair, rubbing her shoulder soothingly.

“Which is why Hand needs a two-man op to put the device out of commission first. One specialist, one engineer.” Ward calmly went on. “I volunteered. Fitz, you in?”

Fitz glanced at Simmons. She paled, but nodded slightly. He shrugged bravely in agreement.

**OOO**

Skye settled on his bed, watching him lay out his gear and put together his pack. “So, no details for us? Where the location is, when you’re leaving, when you’re being extracted? Whether you and Fitz make it out safely? Zero contact?”

“Nope,” Ward said shortly. “You heard Hand.”

“Okay.” Skye looked around his bunk, observing the crisply made bed, the books on tactical strategy stacked in the corner, a garrotte neatly coiled in the open drawer of his nightstand. “You know, you never got around to teaching me that chokehold. The headlock one.”

He zipped up his pack. “You could always ask May while I’m on mission.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked unconvinced. “Think I’ll just wait for you to get back. May might choke me to death.”

He smiled slightly at her comment and sat down beside her. Firmly, she closed her fingers on his, dark eyes pensive and unsmiling. “Two things. Keep Fitz safe and come back to me. I need you here.” She stared into her lap, cheeks flaming. “For the chokeholds and training stuff. Obviously.”

“Think I might be able to manage that.” The corners of his lips quirked. Teasingly, he added, “And really? You sure training's all you need me for?”

**OOO**

Three days of unbearable silence from Fitz and Ward had passed.

On the third day, she walked into Coulson’s office and sat on his table. “Look, I heard Agent Hand. But does it not scare the crap out of you that we know nothing? Like, our boys could be dead right now, Coulson, and we wouldn’t even know.”

Coulson’s face was set into a pleasant non-expression. “That’s classified. But you have nothing to worry about. The people who design these ops are the best of the best. Now get off the table.”

Her temper flared.

“Nothing to worry about? What about them being caught and tortured? Like _I_ was? Fitz is defenceless. I need to know that at least you know they’re safe!” She was yelling by the end of her outburst.

“Trust the system.” Coulson barely looked up from his papers. “I know you care about them. I do too. But I won’t compromise our agents.”

“Fine,” she bit back. “Speaking of compromised agents, do you know they don’t have an extraction plan? Did Agent Hand tell you that? Tell them that?”

“You hacked Hand’s mission data servers?” From the slight way Coulson stiffened, she knew he had not known. He covered up his shock with authoritative anger. “I could have you court-martialled for a second breach of regulations.”

“You could have Ward and Fitz dead,” she challenged. “I think I’ll take the court martial. Stop it, Coulson. I haven’t changed because of Geneva.”

An edge of unmistakeable hurt crept into her voice. “I know, it’s hard to see sometimes. But I’m still her. I’m Skye. After everything we’ve been through, did you think I would ever not have your back? That you’d have to hide things from me?”

He registered that her anger had not come entirely from Ward and Fitz’s mission. Something behind his entire demeanour relented with faint understanding and compunction.

Coulson stood up so they were both at eye level.

“No, you’re right."

She waited. The silence lengthened.

"I should have trusted you. About ordering Ward to monitor you. About everything.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll make a few calls and see what I can do. If you get your ass off my table.”

“Fair enough.” Skye hopped down and hugged him hard in thanks. She hesitated before leaving. ”Can you check on the status of any reported events in the vicinity? Probably nothing. Just a feeling that something’s off.”

**OOO**

_Slovakia, Cybertek Facility_

“Okay. Finished. Just need to plug in couple wires, red button and we can get to extraction. God knows I’m bloody starving –“

“Fitz. Ex-fil never made contact. There is no extraction.” Ward wearily grabbed the wired equipment in Fitz’s hands, blood and resignation streaking his face. “I can give you fifteen minutes tops. Go.”

“What. The hell. No - no way -” Fitz clung reflexively to his hardware, his accent thickening in a shocked stream of jumbled words. “If you think I’m going anywhere, I’m not. We’re a team. I’m not leaving. Even if you threw out my bloody sandwich -”

“Yes, you are. My orders are to keep you out of combat.” Ward ripped the equipment cursorily out of his hands. “Run it by me how to deactivate this thing. The blue wire into this plug, the green wire into that one and the red button last? After which the beacon goes off and the raid starts in six minutes.”

“Y-Yeah.” Fitz was having trouble concentrating, panic building up steadily like a thrum in his stomach. “What about you? The air raid starts, specs show there’s nowhere safe. No bomb shelter or manhole.”

“If the job was easy, it wouldn’t be any fun.” Ward shrugged easily, hiding a wave of sadness, of yearning. “Just - tell Skye I’m sorry. You need to get back and tell her for me. She’ll understand. Now go.”

Fitz unzipped his pack and handed him a flat case. “Just in case. Spare ICER, splinter bombs, EMPs. Not much use in the way of air raid protection but if you can get away –“

“Thanks.” Ward grudgingly took it. “Take the south exit. Fastest route.“

Fitz nodded mutely. Slapping Ward hard on the chest, he jogged away, hot guilt mixing with the tears blurring his vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo! Just checking in with you guys if you're still with this story. Sorry I've been so late with the update in 2021 but I promise I'm not orphaning this work. 
> 
> I've also been doing research, plotline planning and rewatching the show. I plan to do a massive overhaul edit of Chapt 1/2. Contrary to what I've earlier said, this fic won't be done anywhere near Jan or even Feb. I estimate ten to fifteen chapters more. 
> 
> \- Carolyn 22 Jan 2021


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